Death Long Suffered: 15. One Step At A Time

Reader Toolbox   Log in for more tools

15. One Step At A Time

They rode for over an hour, out onto the hills and vales of the Pelennor. The spring crops had been harvested and the summer crops were being planted. Many a farmer waved in greeting as they passed by. Boromir and Faramir rode ahead; Damrod and Mablung followed behind.

"It has been a year," Faramir began hesitantly as they slowed their horses. "A year since I was taken."

Boromir said naught, hoping Faramir might speak somewhat of the horrors done to him.

"I see him. In my dreams. Even now."

"The Witch-king?"


"He cannot harm you, Faramir."

A sour smile crossed Faramir's face and disappeared. "I thought none could harm me, Boromir. I was a fool."

"Nay!" Boromir pulled his horse up and looked long and hard at his brother. "Come. There is a stream nearby. Let us stop and break our fast."

Mablung and Damrod followed as they turned off the road and onto a less trodden path. When they reached the small stream, Boromir jumped off his horse; Faramir slid off his. He sighed. "One of these days, I will dismount in a more seemly manner."

"Only three months ago and you could not ride at all. Siriondil tells you that you must be kind to yourself. Remember that."

Mablung took their horses reins and Damrod began the makings of a camp. None spoke as if in agreement. When the fire grew strong and the bacon hissed, Boromir turned to his brother. "Perhaps you would like to take a walk? If you need to speak of - those things."


Damrod nodded as the two brothers walked away from the camp.

"I do not know where to begin. I have battled this for nigh unto a year and I am weary, Boromir. I must speak of it."

They walked along the stream's bank in silence. "I..." Faramir swallowed. "From the first day in Minas Morgul, he took me." He shuddered violently. Boromir held him. "I had never been taken." His face turned a deep scarlet. "I did not understand at first, being a virgin, and as ignorant as any ever was." He refused to look at his brother; nonetheless, he was grateful for Boromir's silence. "I was stripped of all my clothes, placed on the bed and tied to posts, both arms and legs. I began to understand and threw up."

Boromir looked incredulous and held him at arms' length. "You threw up?"

Faramir smiled. "I did. All over the sheets." He shuddered again. "He struck me. He was livid. I believe he does not like his sheets soiled." Tears formed. "No. We soiled his sheets often; it is vomit he does not particularly like."

Boromir stepped away, but still held Faramir's arm. "You do not have to continue."

"I do. I cannot sleep. Siriondil advises me to share... Boromir," he choked. "I cannot sleep."

Boromir enfolded Faramir in his arms. "You will. Tonight. I promise."

Faramir nodded, sighed heavily, and leaned against Boromir's shoulder. "Oh! Valar!" Faramir screamed. "I cannot... I do not want to remember."

Damrod ran into the clearing; Boromir waved him off.

"Take one moment at a time. Faramir. You threw up. Did they clean you? Did they change the sheets?"

Faramir pulled himself away, a soft, puzzled smile upon his face. "They did. He shouted and they ran in and changed the sheets. He watched, then they left."

"One step at a time, Faramir."

Faramir held his hands out and splayed his fingers until his hands hurt. "He slapped me again and again. I cannot tell you how hard his hand felt. I saw stars. I wish I had blacked out." Faramir swallowed. "He threw his cloak back and I saw that he was naked. His member was huge, Boromir. At least, I think it was huge. The only others I have ever seen, besides my own, were the Orcs. He was larger. I knew what was to befall me, then. I suppose I am not as ignorant as all that. He moved to the bed and knelt between my bound legs. Heat radiated from him, it almost took my breath away. Never had I felt such heat. It frightened me, as if I would be burned when he touched me. I did not know. Then I smelled him. Something akin to a tanners hut, but worse. I gagged and he struck me a fourth time. 'Do not spew again!' he screamed. He lowered himself, pulled on me, pulled hard, then screamed at me. 'I want you hard, boy. Hard as a rock! Do you hear me? Hard.' I think I wilted further."

Faramir's wan smile broke Boromir's heart. "One moment only, Faramir. One step."

His brother nodded, then bit his lip. "He pulled on me, then... engulfed me," Faramir's voice dropped to a whisper. "After a moment, he bit me. I was shocked and benumbed. He scraped his teeth over me and then sucked again. I was afraid he was going to bite it off. But he stopped and growled. 'If you will not get hard for me, then I will not be kind.' He thrust into me; the pain... I swooned. He must have called one of the Orcs for next thing I knew, he had water thrown into my face. I woke and thought I was drowning, wishing I were drowning. He slapped me three or four times. I know not. I do not remember much of that first time."

The implication horrified Boromir.

"He hurt me, Boromir. He came and came and then he was hard again. And it seemed to never stop. The morning came and he still pounded into me. At last, he fell against me and moaned. 'Good,' he said and I wanted to die. 'Very good for the first time. I will make you hard, boy. Within the next day or two. You will see. You will come for me and I will wash myself in your cum."

"Did you?"

Faramir sobbed and threw himself back into Boromir's arms. "I did. Many times," he sobbed. "I do not know why my body betrayed me thusly. I hated every moment of it, but after a few days of such treatment, I grew hard as soon as he entered the room."

"That is to be expected." Faramir looked at him strangely. "The body changes to survive. Your mind knew you must react if you were to live. Therefore, it told you to harden. There is no shame in that, Faramir."

His brother sobbed in his arms. "I am shamed, Boromir."

"Do not be," Faramir's brother whispered in his ear, his own member hardening as his love for his courageous brother grew. "Our bodies are not our own, at times. There is naught to be ashamed of."

He only wished it were true for an elder brother!


This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.

Story Information

Author: Alcardilme

Status: General

Completion: Complete

Era: 3rd Age - The Stewards

Genre: Drama

Rating: Adult

Last Updated: 07/26/10

Original Post: 07/03/09

Go to Death Long Suffered overview


No one has commented on this story yet. Be the first to comment!

Comments are hidden to prevent spoilers.
Click header to view comments

Talk to Alcardilme

If you are a HASA member, you must login to submit a comment.

We're sorry. Only HASA members may post comments. If you would like to speak with the author, please use the "Email Author" button in the Reader Toolbox. If you would like to join HASA, click here. Membership is free.

Reader Toolbox   Log in for more tools